


Close call

by myotishia



Series: A path less walked [4]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:34:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23042581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myotishia/pseuds/myotishia
Summary: A crime scene with the word Torchwood written across the wall in blood leads to a familiar face.
Relationships: Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones, Owen Harper/Toshiko Sato
Series: A path less walked [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1645870
Comments: 4
Kudos: 46





	Close call

Jack couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. He’d seen messy crime scenes before of course, especially that weevil nest that a group of workmen broke into, but he’d never seen one with the word ‘Torchwood’ graffiti’d across the wall in blood. It looked like a crime of passion going by the level of violence displayed but taking the time to paint the walls said something different. It didn’t make sense. Then again, neither did having the name of their secret organisation painted on the wall of a crime scene. 

“Owen, tell me you’ve got something.” He said, not turning from the wall.

The doctor glanced up. “Well, they fought back so I can get DNA from the killer. Is that something enough for you?”

“I’m surprised the place hadn’t already been swept clean.”

“The police probably don’t want to touch this with a ten foot barge pole.”

“I’m not so sure. I left Gwen to keep detective Swanson busy. She did not look happy.”

“Gwen or Swanson?”

“Both”

Later, back at the hub, Gwen looked tired and completely done with dealing with people. She looked as if she was about to fall asleep at her desk when she was jolted awake by Owen.

“I think I’ve found our killer, but more interestingly…” He pushed himself away from his desk. “The hair sample I collected shows traces of retcon. A lot of retcon. Up until about three months ago anyway.”

Jack walked over. “Does this killer have a name?”

“Max Edwards. His DNA isn’t on record but I’ve been doing a bit of digging… Well, Tosh has been doing a bit of digging.”

“Thank you.” Tosh smiled, not looking from her screen. 

“Anyway, with that much retcon in his system we should have him on file but we don’t. What we do have are emails left over from Suzies account to Max.”

Jack frowned. “There’s our Torchwood connection. Any idea what’s pushed him into this killing spree?”

“Not a clue, yet.”

“Well, there’s one person who knows.” Gwen said, sitting back and stretching. 

Jack raised an eyebrow. “Care to explain?”

“We still have the gauntlet don’t we?”

“No! There is no way anyone is touching that thing.” 

“He’s still out there, probably targeting someone else. If Suzie knew him she could help.”

“She let it into her head and ended up killing innocent people.”

“This is just one use.”

“That’s not the point.”

“What other leads do we have?”

The gauntlet connected to Gwens mind a little more easily than she would have liked but she supposed that would make the process easier. She looked down at the woman, cold and lifeless on the table in front of her. Time to get this over and done with.

“Before we start disturbing the dead-” Ianto interrupted from the doorway. “-I think I’ve found a connection between Suzie, Max and the victims.”

Gwen let out a sigh of relief, pulling off the metal glove.

Jack smiled and turned. “What did you find?” 

“I took the liberty of searching through her effects after Tosh told me about the emails. Most of it is just normal but then I found this.” He held up a book, a collection of poetry by Emily Dickinson, with a leaflet sticking out of the top as a bookmark. Receiving blank looks he continued. “The leaflet’s for a support group called Pilgrim. Looks a little religious for me but it has a list of names and numbers on the back. One of which belongs to Max Edwards, and others belong to the victims. Coincidentally they’re written in the order of the deaths.” 

“Then we can catch him before he kills again.”

Catching Max wasn’t the issue, in fact it was rather easy. Too easy. He seemed to be in some kind of trance. Even being escorted to a cell he didn’t make a fuss. Jack closed the cell door and decided to test a theory. 

“Max… Why did you write Torchwood a-”

Max flew into a sudden rage, lashing out at the door. 

“Suzie, what did you get yourself into?” He breathed to himself, walking away to let Max wear himself out. He was barely three cells away when the screaming stopped, replaced by calm speech. It was droning but had a rhythm to it. He heard the heavy locks engaging from above, recognising the sounds of the hub going into a full lockdown. He sprinted back upstairs.

“Tosh, what’s going on?” He asked.

She didn’t look away from her screen. “I’m not sure, yet. It just activated and I’m completely locked out of the system.”

“Can you get back in?”

“Of course I can. Suzie may have been smart, but I am so much smarter.”

“You think Suzie did this?”

Owen raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. “You think she didn’t. Everything connects back to her.”

“But why? And how?”

“She killed herself while experimenting with the glove… Maybe she thought it could bring her back.” Gwen suggested. “She spent the most time with it after all.”

“We would have tried if…”

Ianto sealed the box he’d placed the gauntlet into. “If we hadn’t found the book. It was hidden at the back of her bedside table if I remember correctly. I only checked there because she mentioned that she always loses things in there.” 

“If that’s true we need to be careful to avoid anything else she’s left for us.” He didn’t want to believe that she’d been like that for so long. He could brush it off in a way if she’d been corrupted by alien tech but this was human. Too human. 

“I even took the time to check for a second glove.”

“Wait… What?”

“It’s a glove… Gloves come in pairs. There was always the possibility that she’d found the other one.” He picked up the box and carried it off to get it ready to be placed into the archive as soon as the doors unlocked. 

Jack watched him leave before turning back. “Why lock us in…” We weren’t talking the whole way in here… And we didn’t even turn the lights on.”

“Having a moment there Harkness?” Owen asked, more intent on watching Tosh work. 

“The word Torchwood sends him into a rage. If he’d seen any of the signs he would have attacked. The armoury's out of action during a lockdown.” 

“So, he’s like a sleeper agent? It would explain him being so spaced out when we brought him in… That’s why he had so much retcon in his system.”

Gwen tilted her head lightly. “I thought that wiped your memory.”

“It does… Mostly. Little things get left behind. Given enough time and the skills it could be used to create a hypnotic state where, well, you do what Max did.”

“Can it be reversed?”

“Yea. Now we know it’s there it’ll only take a couple of weeks. But if she did that to him she could have done the same to others, just in case.”

Jack wandered to his office and flopped into his chair. “We’ll need to know if any of this was the result of using the glove.”

“I doubt it. This would take a lot longer than she had with it. She was planning this for a long time…” He frowned deeply, remembering the nights he’d spent with Suzie, wondering how many of those she was considering how to kill him. He’d trusted her completely and that’s what hurt most. The loud clang of locks disengaging pulled him from his thoughts. 

Tosh smirked. “That wasn’t even difficult.”

“Nice work. Make sure she didn’t leave us any more little presents.” Jack smiled.

“I’ll double check everything.”

“We’ll need to check on the rest of that list and make sure there aren’t any agents left.”

Late that night Owen lay awake. Tosh breathed softly, curled up next to him in a tangle of sheets. He never guessed she’d be a sheet hog but she was full of surprises. Thankfully her surprises were good ones and didn’t involve murder of any kind. He studied the curve of her hip in the half light, the delicate rise and fall of her arm rested over her ribs, draped softly with the folded sheets. How she managed to still be beautiful after a long, hard day was a mystery to him. He rolled onto his side and wrapped an arm around her middle.

“You ok?” She mumbled, face half buried in her pillow. 

He kissed her shoulder and pulled her close. “Yea. I’m fine.”

“Sorry, I stole the blankets again.”

“It’s ok.” He chuckled softly as she clumsily tried to untangle herself without moving too much. She was beautiful, but she was still a bit of a dork. 

Jack sighed contentedly, having successfully brushed off the dark mood he’d had earlier. Or more, he’d been distracted from it. Ianto had fallen asleep on his chest an hour before and he showed no sign that he planned to wake up or move any time soon. Not that he could move too easily on the small bed without falling off. He’d not been impressed the first time that happened, but Jack had promised him to try and hold onto him next time. They’d both kept telling themselves that what they had was purely physical but as Jack looked down at Iantos peaceful expression he knew he was in trouble. It was more than physical. A lot more. He couldn’t say anything of course, but for now just holding each other for hours was enough. The company chased both of their nightmares away. 


End file.
